Stonework and Seedlings
by typeos
Summary: Thorin does not know how to handle children, especially not elvish children
1. Chapter 1

Thorin scowls at the bars of his jail cell. Tossing a pebble it the air, he catches it in barely concealed rage.

Things were not looking up for the company. This is the second time they've been taken prisoner during their quest. First by wretched goblins and now by traitorous pointy eared fools had the nerve to separate the company. All eleven of them isolated from one another, with Bilbo nowhere to be found. He was sure the hobbit was safe, didn't even want to consider the alternatives.

He'd rather deal with the goblins, who had at least kept them together and didn't speak in such flowery words and faked pleasantries.

And there was the fact that stabbing goblins would bring no such consequences as say, stabbing that snooty elf prince would.

That scum Thranduil had the gall to offer aid in exchange for his precious gems, he had no use for the elf kings long awaited aid. Not now, and not make matters worse, not only was he stuck in this dank cell. He could actually hear elvish music from upstairs.

He scowl deepened. The stupid elvish laughter grating on his nerves.

His temper flaring, he throw the pebble across his cell, watching it sail through the bars.

A childish action to be sure, but he was alone and there was nothing else to lighten his he wasn't as alone as he thought, he stiffened as something gasped across his cell. He catches a flash of red hair just before it disappears.

"Show yourself!" His voice echoing in the caverns of the dungeon " Do not linger in the shadows, you coward."

Thorin peers at the dark pillars across his cell.

He would rather not prattle with his captors but he won't be spied on either.

A figure steps into the light.

Thorin blinks, his scowl lost in his surprise.

A small elf stands before his cell.

Like a young sapling her lanky limbs held straight as a stick, her chin held up high it what looks to be a poor imitation of the so called grace of elves. Her eyes betray her growing horror, he realizes it is not a vertically challenged elf, but an _elf child_.

As much as he adores his baby nephew, Thorin is not experienced in dealing with children. He also despises elves, which really goes without on earth is he supposed to deal with an elf child while stuck in an elvish jail cell?

Mahal help him.


	2. Chapter 2

In all her thirty seven years of existence, Tauriel had not yet had the opportunity to meet any dwarven folk.

She had heard stories of course. The other older and much wiser elves always told her tales of the world outside, curious as she was.

"The children of Aulë", Mereneth, an elleth who was part of the guard and friend of her mother's before who took it upon herself to take care of the young elf would tell her " are unmatched in the art of smithing. they say all dwarves can hear the voices of the stones and gems of the earth, crafting them in line with their song"

Tauriel had wrinkled her nose at that. Stones and gems do not have voices and when she had told Mereneth that, the lady had only laughed.

"How would you know, little leaf?" Mereneth patted her on the head " Are you a dwarf? You certainly do have the height for one."

Tauriel shrieked at that, chasing the her senior around the halls of the Mirkwood.

"Dwarves live under the earth" Delunir, an elf from the halls of healing had told her while tending to the scrapes and scratches she tending to get " they are short stout and hairy. Greedy and with poor manners and not at all pleasant to look at. If you don't behave they'll come to take you to live under their caves away from the starlight!"

That had scared her into her best behavior, but only for a few days.

Those stories, combined with her imagination painted a vivid picture of dwarves as something mysterious in her young mind.

Which made staring at one in person even more exciting.

She stared at the dwarf who had noticed her lingering.

He had arms and legs like an elf did, only shorter. Like someone sat on him. His ears were not pointed but rounded, how strange.

Stout and almost squarish in shape. He looked sturdy and strong, not unlike a boulder.

He was not so unpleasant to look at, in fact he had a noble bearing to his features and held himself nobly. His head held high similar to Prince Legolas or maybe even the King.

He was also hairy. Delunir was not black hair was long, but what caught her attention the most was the hair on his face.. Tauriel had never seen so much hair on a person's face in her whole life! She wondered if he itched terribly.

He was around her height, which meant she could look him in the eye without much trouble. Eyes she noted were looking at her in consternation.

She stiffened when he spoke again.

"Who are you and what are you doing here ?" He squinted at her from his cell " A prison cell is no place for a child."

" I am Tauriel, master dwarf,and I have come because I have never seen a dwarf before." She replied honestly, not knowing how else to respond to the surly looking dwarf.

He raised a brow at her. " Now you have seen one."

He seemed determined to leave it and that, moving to sit on the bench in his cell farther from her.

Tauriel would not be curiosity giving her courage, she took a step closer.

"May I ask you a question Master dwarf?"

Silence. She took that as a yes.

"Are you not itchy?"

"What?" That got a reaction from him. " Why would I itch?"

"You have hair on your face." Tauriel rubbed her chin and cheeks in demonstration. " How did you grow hair on your face?"

"It is a beard." He told her, exasperated " It itches as much as the hair on your head, I would imagine."

"A beard." She said, testing the unfamiliar word. "Would I be able to grow a beard?"

He snorted at her.

"Unlikely." He peered at her from the bars of his cell. " I have never seen an elf with a single hair on their chin."

"Have you seen many elves then?" She sat at the foot of his cell.

His expression darkened at that, he remembered who it was he was speaking too.

"You should not be here." He turned away from her.

Tauriel blinked and waited. She drew patterns on the floor while he continued to scowl.

Music and laughter from above echoed within the cavern halls and Tauriel could not keep help but smile, the dwarf on the other hand grew irritated.

When it seemed like he could take it no more he spoke again.

"What is going in up there?"

"It is the feast of starlight!" She told him excitedly "Tonight we celebrate the light of the stars!."

"Typical elves." He said with disdain.

Tauriel scowled at him. " starlight is precious and pure!"

" and why are you not up there celebrating as well?"

Tauriel shrugged. The older elves were celebrating with wine, wine that she couldn't touch yet. However it gave her the opportunity to sneak into the dungeons unnoticed. She told the dwarf this and a look of interest grew on his face.

"No one stopped you then? No one guarding the prison doors?"

Tauriel shrugged " There are some assigned, but I am light on my feet and can go unnoticed if i choose.I have done it before."

She didn't mention the fact that she had seen the guards assigned to them drinking as well. She was young but not entirely clueless.

"An elfling with a rebellious nature, I did not think one existed." He said disbelief and just a hint of praise in his voice and Tauriel could not help but be confused by this.

"Is that not a bad thing?" She inquires. " The king said I was a devious little trouble maker."

She had spilt drink on his robes once while running through the halls. The lecture she had received was one she didn't ever recall fondly. She did not care to hear about the delicate nature of silk ever again.

" You make as much trouble as you like." He laughed and it startled her. She didn't think he was capable of it.

Silence again.

"Where do dwarf babies come from?"

He choked at that. Coughing noisily as he tried to regain his breath. Dwarves, it seemed, had the interesting ability of turning purple.

It was during this coughing fit that Prince Legolas found her.

"Tauriel!" He called out. She could feel nothing but dread in her bones. " Come away from there at once!"


	3. Chapter 3

They are far from the Mirkwood, stowed away in stolen barrels riding the river towards Lake Town when he notices her.

There in one barrel, peeking out is a mop of red hair and decidedly elvish ears.

He want to yell and rage but the battle they had fought has taken its toll on him. Instead he maneuvers the barrel he's in towards the runaway and is met with a varied range of exclamations from the party when he pulls out the elfing he spoke to in the prisons.

The little one, Tawny something, has the decency to look ashamed , she also looks like a half drowned kitten but he refuses to mention that in front of her, children liked kittens and this was a time for seriousness and scolding. Not kittens.

"What on earth!" Bilbo cries out, already swimming towards him, his maternal instinct no doubt at work. "What happened to this poor dear?!"

"This " He growls " is a misbehaving elf child."

"Glad to hear not all elves are so high and mighty!" Bofur has the audacity to laugh and shakes off the glare Thorin throws his way." You have to admit, it's a little funny."

"I didn't mean to misbehave." Tawny something looks meekly down at Thorin who is still holding her up for the rest of the company to see. Bilbo tugs on his arm, demanding he put her down while patting the girl's head. She sniffles and he can see it in the hobbit's eyes. He's adopted another into his brood.

"Misbehaving or not, we certainly are finding ourselves in quite the pickle." Balin sighs, probably already trying to figure out how to go about this diplomatic mess. "What is your name little one and what were you doing in a barrel?"

"My name is Tauriel." She sniffles " I was only playing, barrels make good hiding places." She ducks deeper into the barrel, peering over the edge and he didn't think it was possible but the look on Bilbo's face gets even more maternal.

"Well." Dwalin snorts "The elfing and hobbit share more than pointy ears it seems."

"She can't stay with us." Thorin glares " She needs to be with her own kind. Her parents are most likely looking for at this very moment!"

"We can't exactly turn back now can we?" Bofur sighs

"We can't leaver her either." Dori sighs"She's too young, even if she is an elf."

"There might be orcs still. " Ori looks around warily.

Thorin rubs his temples, his head started to ache.

"Leaving her is not an option!" Bilbo bellows "she's only…Tauriel, how old are you little one?"

"I'm ninety nine years old." She beams, peeking out from the barrel , probably glad to have avoided a lecture, which she will most definitely be getting even if Thorin has to do it himself. "Almost a hundred!"

A beat passes.

Bilbo sputters at that " Oh? Oh. Right, Your lot ages differently."

"How old are you?" Tauriel pauses for a moment, and looks apologetic the next "If you don't mind me asking."

"I'm around fifty years old myself." Bilbo answers and the face Tauriel makes in the most comical expression he has ever seen on an elf.

Then again that probably isn't saying much all things considered.

* * *

You might have noticed I've broken the rules a bit with Tauriel's age, since elves mature at around fifty years old but this fic is purely for fun and I've already made her a wee baby so i might as well go all the way. I kid, I kid but elves will age a good deal slower in this story. Thanks for bearing with me!


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